Angel's Vengeace
by Leon Angealis
Summary: Draxal is a fairly unremarkable planet. Or so it seems. War is a constant in this galaxy and this one will be one of the bloodiest in the sector's history. Xenos descend upon the world, bent of slaughter. Enter the Imperium's military forces.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again everyone! :) **

**Here's something I've been wanting to do for years; A fanfic based on the Warhammer 40,000 universe. **

**I would like to make some disclaimers; I DO NOT own the name of any Space Marine Chapter's (although HOW AWESOME WOULD THAT BE?! :D), the Imperial Guard, any of the races in the story itself, or anything pertaining to the workings of the Imperium. I DO own the character's, the planet and of course, the story itself :) **

**Enjoy.  
**

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Chapter One

**Planetfall**

The planet Draxal. A common agri-world, one of millions under the Imperium's iron control. The Planetary Defense Forces were fairly confident in the relative safety their unimpressive world granted them. In most cases, this would lead to a lax in discipline and battle ability. However, the Departmento Munitorum, the hands that control the distribution of Imperial Guard regiments and supplies, saw fit to send a commissar, along with several regiments of the Imperial Guard themselves, to keep the PDF in line. The PDF higher ups did not believe such an action necessary, but, for fear of punishment, possibly even execution, they did not argue.

The Munitorum could not have guessed how perfectly timed their decision would be. For less than six months after the arrival of the Imperial Guard, a space hulk of immense size drifted into the Draxal system, and unlike most space hulks, this one was filled with more than just a few petty creatures of Chaos, or even genestealers of the tyranid swarm. As the space hulk slowly crossed the void, thousands upon thousands of voices echoed inside it. These voices growled and roared, as the inhabitants of the hulk grew restless after their long confinement. Corpses littered the rusting floors of the ship, evidence of huge melees when tempers boiled over.

On the bridge of the mechanical abomination that was the space hulk, the massive ork warboss, Balthuzog Smasha, stood at the forward view port, observing the healthy green world his Waaagh! was approaching. Balthuzog was a giant among his kind, green skin bulging with barely contained muscles. A large power claw replaced his left hand, and it clenched in anticipation. Gretchins, the smallest of the ork species scurried about around him, keeping the space hulk just barely in working order.

One of his ork bodyguards came up to his side, "Sir, wez approachin' da planet."

"I can see dat, ya grot." Smasha smacked the ork in the back of the head. "Redy da boyz. Dem humies ain't gonna know what hit em."

--

Truly, the humans on Draxal did not know what hit them. The first of the ork rockets smashed into the surface on the far side of the planet's capital, Eyoden. At first they were presumed to be mere meteor crashes, a relatively common occurrence. But when greenskins began to pour forth from the ships, killing anyone in their path with axes and gun, the scope of the danger became apparent.

At first the humans had the problem contained; the Imperial Guard held their lines against the still relatively small ork force. But, once more ork rockets began dropped from the high atmosphere, the situation quickly deteriorated. The Guard and PDF forces were overwhelmed and were on an almost constant retreat around to the other side of the planet, the ork horde charging after them.

Immediately, the planetary governor sent out a distress signal to the Munitorum, begging for reinforcements. The astropaths sent their psychic pleas echoing across the warp, hoping beyond hope that they would be heard. The message was never received by the Munitorum; the distress beacons' signal strength failed and the astropaths' psychic abilities had not yet reached their apex. However, that did not mean that no one received their distress calls. Their cries were heard and help was sent immediately.

It was not until four months later that the reinforcements finally arrived. The Draxalian PDF and the Guard regiments planetside had begun to lose hope that they would be saved at all, and even in their wildest dreams, they never could have guessed who would be coming to their rescue…

--

Rain pounded the earth in a torrent. It hissed and steamed as lasbolts whizzed through the air. Guardsman Sergeant Christopher Grix ran across the rain-slicked street to cover of the building before him. Muscle's fatigued and heart pounding, Grix had been in combat for twelve hours, and battle weariness was beginning to take its toll.

As he stood in cover, he peered around the edge of the building, down the long avenue. _Damned greenskins, they're relentless, _he thought to himself. Seeing an ork run from around the corner, Grix aimed down the sight of his lasrifle. "If your skulls are too thick to be shot through…" He pulled the trigger and a brilliant red lasbolt zipped through the air, punching a hole through the ork's eye and out the back of its head. The massive body continued to run, its body unaware that the brain was dead. It collapsed to the ground in a heap and Grix smirked, "Maybe your eyes aren't."

Grix heard the hiss of lasbolts coming around another corner and nine Guardsmen come barreling onto the street. Several seconds passed and four massive greenskins, their bodies covered into cybernetics, charged after them. Grix stepped out from cover. He recognized the heraldry on these men, they were from his regiment. "Hold!" he called.

The Guardsmen stopped and ran to him. "Grix, sir, by the Throne, I'm glad to see you. Listen, we have to keep moving, we can't fight them," one said.

"They'll kill us all. If we retreat, we may live," added another.

Grix shot the second a hard glare, "Should I ever hear such fear from a man in my own regiment again, I'll blow his coward brains out. Do I make myself clear?"

The second Guardsman bowed his head, "Crystal, sir."

"Good," the sergeant said, satisfied. "Now, you five, kneel facing the greenskins, lasguns forward. The rest of you stand behind them." As his orders were followed, Grix took a spot in the center of the standing line. He raised his own rifle, set it to full-auto and cried, "Fire!"

Lasbolts burst from the makeshift firing line. They smashed into the advancing orks, but they still plowed forward. "Keep firing! No mercy!" Grix yelled. More orks came charging around the corner as the original ones finally succumbed to the hundreds of lasbolt holes that riddled their flesh.

Seeing the new advancing wave, Grix's pulse quickened further, _Okay, NOW we should retreat. _"Retreat!" The Guardsmen with him needed no further encouragement and ran full speed in the opposite direction of the orks. But the orks were stronger, faster than the humans.

Even as he ran, Grix activated his comm-link, "Commander, this is Sergeant Grix."

Static was his only response for several moments, then finally, a deep, gruff voice answered, "Sergeant Grix, it is good to know you still yet live."

"Thank you, sir, but that may not be the case for much longer." He risked a glance over his shoulder. The greenskins were gaining fast; he could see their yellowed teeth in their open mouths as they yelled battle cries. "We are in need of assistance."

"The whole planet has been in need of assistance for four months now, sergeant."

"I'm well aware of that, sir." He could hear their heavy footfalls getting closer.

More static filled his ears, before, "I have a lock on your location, sergeant. Take a right down the next street and hit the ground once the greenskins follow." The connection was cut.

"Follow me, boys!" Grix charged to the front of the Guardsmen and led them right. As soon as he heard the orks take the turn, "Hit the dirt!" He dove to the ground. He heard nine bodies smack the wet pavement before all noise was drowned out by the roar of an autocannon. The wet smack of the rounds striking xenos flesh was barely heard.

Finally the autocannon stopped firing and Grix lifted his head to look behind.

The ork bodies could barely be called bodies anymore; they appeared more like random pieces of blood-soaked flesh and armor. Getting to his feet, he looked where the autocannon had been firing from. A Leman Russ Exterminator tank stared back at him, the twin-linked autocannon's barrels still smoking and hot. A hatch opened on the top of the tank and a man poked his head out. "No friendly casualties, right?" he called.

Grix smiled, he knew that voice. "It's a good thing the commander warned us before we crossed your path, Omni, or you'd have ten loyal Guardsmen bodies among these xenos corpses!"

Even though he couldn't see him through the rain, Grix knew Omni was smiling. "It's a good thing he warned us that you would be coming around the corner, Grix, or I would have shot holes through myself!" he called back jokingly. "Keep going this way, the city is lost. The Chimeras are waiting for any surviving Guardsmen. Move quick, they won't wait forever." With that, he closed the hatch and retreated back into the confines of the tank. It rumbled to life and ground past the Guardsmen. They turned and followed Omni's directions.

Moments later, the troops saw the Chimeras waiting at the city gates. They climbed aboard and the transport gunned the engines and roared away, leaving another city to fall before the seemingly unstoppable ork horde.

--

Three more days passed and the orks continued to advance. The Guardsmen and PDF forces were running out of options. Soon the entire eastern hemisphere was consumed by the endless green tide. Only one final bastion of human presence and control remained, Eyoden, and the orks were closing in.

Thousands of Guardsmen manned the walls of Eyoden. The PDF and reserve forces were kept inside the city, to be sent out where they were needed. Inside the governor's palace, General Demetrious Karr observed a holomap of the city and surrounding area. The regimental commissar, known simply as Commissar Thorpe, stood on the other side of the map.

"How fares the morale of our men?" the general queried.

"Relatively well inside the city, poor on the walls," Thorpe answered.

"Any casualties?"

"None as of yet, sir. The orks have yet to make their move out of the foothills to the east."

Karr folded his arms behind his back and paced around the holomap. "What are your orders, sir?" asked the commissar after several minutes of silence.

"Call the reserves and PDF forces to the main square, and tell all Guardsmen on the walls to watch the feed on their helmet displays."

"Right away, sir." Thorpe disappeared through the door.

General Karr leaned on the table the holomap was projected on. "I only pray that our distress signals were received."

A shadow moved in the corner, "The Emperor protects, general."

Karr turned on the shadow, "I know He, vindicare. I just find my faith shaken by this turn of events."

"The galaxy rarely behaves in the way we wish it to," said the assassin, walking out of the shadows.

"The galaxy is cruel place."

"You have no idea how true that is, general." The assassin turned his masked head toward him, the Exitus rifle shifting slightly on his shoulder, "But He will deliver us should that be our fate." Arms moving in a blur, he took the Exitus pistol from his hip and slammed in a fresh clip, "Should our fate be to die, then all we can do is destroy as many of His enemies as possible."

--

General Karr stood upon a raised podium in front of the palace. Behind him stood the Vindicare assassin and Commissar Thorpe. Hundreds of thousands of men and women had crowded into the square before him.

"Men and women of the Imperium, you stand as the first line of defense against the Emperor's enemies. Untold trillions have fought and, if it was His will, died for Him since He had walked the earth over ten thousand years ago. After He sat upon the Golden Throne and ascended to godhood, we of the Imperial Guard have been the enactors of His will, bringing the Emperor's justice down upon innumerable xenos and heretics.

"It now falls to us, the latest in the Imperial Guard line, to pick up the torch left behind by those before us." Karr gestured across the square, to the foothills in the east. "The green tide of the orks has descended of Draxal, and we are the only ones who can save this planet. The orks has assaulted us relentlessly and pushed us our forces to here, to Eyoden." He unsheathed his power sword from his hip, thumbed the activation stud, and the field of glowing energy simmered up the blade. "Here is where we make our last stand on Draxal! The greenskin horde will break against Eyoden's walls like water on rock. We shall never give up the Emperor's world, and should it be His will for us to fall, we shall make them pay for every inch with their lives!"

The air echoed with the war cries of the PDF and Guard forces. After the cries had died down, one voice called from the far end of the square.

"This is a hopeless, pointless venture, general." The last word was filled with contempt. A lone Guardsman stood out from a balcony, "We cannot beat the greenskins. We should all retreat while we ca-."

The man's head exploded in a welter of blood. The headless body tumbled over the edge of the balcony and into the square below.

The Vindicare assassin stood, arm outstretched, his Exitus pistol smoking. Commissar Thorpe stepped forward, every eye turned to him.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear to all of you. The Imperial Guard does not tolerate cowardice." He gestured to the ruined corpse of the Guardsman at the far end of the square, "If you will not serve on the battlefield, then you will serve on the firing line."

Karr glared at the commissar for a moment. "You have your orders, Guardsmen. Dismissed."

Hundreds of thousands of trembling hands shot up to salute, before they all began to file out of the square. The true battle was only just beginning.

--

Unbeknownst to those on the ground, due to the orks destruction of their sensors, a warp rift appeared near the planet. Slowly, an immense ship passed through the rift into real space. It was black and jet-black. On its side it bore a winged skull with a red hood. The battle-barge, _Fist of Vengeance, _slid silently from the warp, and even as the Guardsmen's hope began to wane, their reinforcements had finally arrived.

Veteran Sergeant Dios stood in his sparse living cell, cleaning and giving prayers to the machine-spirits of his power armor and weapons. Dios was a large man, if he could even be called a man any longer, having been given the nineteen implants that turned him in more than a man, the nineteen implants that turned him into a weapon. He stood over two and half meters tall, his body rippling with muscles. His dark hair was cropped close to his head and his emerald eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

A knock on the door broke Dios' trance-like state. "Enter."

Brother Magus pushed open the door. Magus towered over Dios in his black power armor. "Captain Bram requests all battle-brothers to report to the launch bays."

Dios ceased his cleaning, "We have arrived in the Draxal system then?"

"Indeed, brother-sergeant."

"Very well, I will be along shortly."

Magus bowed and swiftly disappeared down the hall, leaving to Dios to put on his power armor, _It appears it is time to bring justice to the Emperor's enemies once again. _He slammed a fresh clip into his bolter. His lips twitched as a shell slid into the chamber, "Time to spill the blood of the xenos."

--

"For the Emperor!" cried Grix as he blasted, full-auto, into the greenskins below. The orks howled in retort and riddled his section of the wall with bullets and bolts. Taking one hand off his lasguns, the other still firing into the horde, he reached down and pulled a fragmentation grenade from his belt. Ripping the pin out with his teeth, he hurled it in the green ocean. Moments later, screeches of pain and anguish reached Grix's ears over the din of battle.

He took a moment to take stock of the battle. All along the eastern walls, the situation was played out a million times over, as the Guardsmen shot down at the orks massing as the base of the wall. _We may actually be able to pull this off_, the sergeant's thoughts were hopeful. Turning back to the endless orks horde, his hopes changed to despair.

Flying low in the sky, an ork fighta-bommer was flying straight at the wall. Strapped to the bottom of the aircraft, crude though it was, was a large cluster of explosives. "Oh no…" he breathed. Turning to his fellow Guardsmen on the wall near him, he cried, "Move! Move! Get off the wall!"

But it was too late. The ork pilot gunned the engines and the fighta-bommer smashed into the plasteel wall. The aircraft was engulfed in the resulting explosion, made all the more violent by the explosives strapped to it. The wall collapsed and pieces of it flew in all directions, littering the ground with metal and Guardsmen.

Grix was catapulted from the wall and landed in a heap on the ground below. His vision blacked for a moment before he came to. Trying to push himself to his feet, he winced and fell back, _Feels like some broken ribs, maybe even a punctured lung._ As if to prove him right, he coughed up a thick glob of blood and spat it on the ground.

He turned his head to see the gaping hole in the wall as the orks piled through. _No…_

Just as the greenskins crossed the threshold into the city, the front most orks' bodies were riddled with bullet holes, only to have those bullet's explode moments later. Grix didn't understand, _Bolt rounds? There's nothing that fires bolt rounds on this planet…_ He turned his head again.

A large gunship streaked low towards the breach. It was jet-black and bore the heraldry of the red-hooded winged skull. It fired streams of bolts into the advancing orks, stopping them momentarily. As the gunship neared the orks, large armored shapes leapt out of the back of it. The shapes landed and quickly begin adding their own bolts to the gunships already impressive display. A pile of greenskin dead quickly began to fill the gap, but still the orks charged.

Grix stared, open-mouthed at the new arrivals. He had thought they only existed in the legends of the Great Crusade. The towering figures, the unbeatable prowess and marksmanship. "It cannot be…"

One of the figures walked over to his, his bolter held one handed as he kneeled down next to Grix. "Are you hurt, Guardsman?"

Grix ignored the question, his voice only able to ask one, "Who are you…?"

The figure straightened slightly, "I am Veteran Sergeant Dios of the Angels of Vengeance's Fourth Company. We are here to deliver you."

_It is true then, the Emperor's angels of death had come to Draxal_. Grix lost consciousness as he realized what was happening.

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**And so it begins! :) **

**Please review everyone and let me know how to make this story better! :D  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! :) **

**Well, here's the next chapter, as promised. **

***insert disclaimer from Chapter One here* (I'm lazy :P) **

**Let me know what you all think :D  
**

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Chapter Two

**Angels' Arrival**

Dios stared down at the Guardsman at his feet. He had forgotten how most humans reacted to his presence. Awe, fear, inspiration; he knew all these things ran through the hearts of those who had never before seen a member of the Adeptus Astartes, the name given to all Space Marines. These feelings had gripped Dios himself, over one and half centuries ago, when he was first selected by the Angels of Vengeance to compete in the Angel's Task, the trails that potential aspirants must undergo, and pass, in order to begin the long and painful transformation into a Space Marine.

Memories flew unbidden to his mind as Dios observed the unconscious human beneath him. Memories of his time on his home world, the hive-planet of Seles…

--

_Dios was a young boy again, having not seen his thirteenth year yet. Seles was a massive hive-world; towering spires crammed with people reached from the dark sky. The wealthy amongst them lived in the upper spires, in luxury. Dios hated them. He was forced to live in the lower slums, forced to fight for every day of survival, to kill for each meal. The 'nobility', as they called themselves, wouldn't survive a day down here. But Dios could. _

_In his years, he had grown strong; his body was thin and cut, with lean muscle visible below the skin. No one in this sector of the slums dared go against Dios. They had seen what had happened to those who had tried before. _

_In the memory he had returned to, Dios stood over the lifeless corpse of one of those wretches foolish enough to challenge him. The corpse clutched a laspistol, though its finger had never been given the chance to use it. Dios turned behind him, expecting the grins of his gang staring back at him. What he saw drove a fear he had never known deep into his heart. _

_A monster of a man stood before him, clad in jet-black power armor. He stood over three heads taller than Dios, and was over four times his girth. Glaring red eyes stared down at Dios from the monster's helmet. The red hooded winged skull stood out against the black surface of the ceramite. At his side was a holstered bolt pistol, on the opposite side, a sheathed chainsword. _

_"What is your name, hive scum?" the black armored warrior asked. _

_Dios bristled at the obvious insult. He stood straighter and stared directly back into the red eyes, "My name is Dios." _

_"I take it that was your doing?" He pointed to the ruined face of the corpse behind Dios. _

_The young human grinned, "Yes." _

_"Interesting."_

_Dios tilted his head, "Who are you to ask all these questions of me?" _

_The man remained quiet, yet Dios could hear a series of clicks coming from his helmet. Finally, he spoke again, "Dios, come with me." He reached out to the boy. _

_Taking a step back, Dios didn't understand, "Who are you?" _

_For a moment the man was silent. "I am Veteran Sergeant Bram of the Angels of Vengeance Sixth Company." _

_"Angels of Ven…" Dios began to say. Then realization dawned on him. The stories were true. This world, Seles, was a reaping ground for the Adeptus Astartes, the legendary Space Marines who carried the Emperor's justice across the stars. Dios had long thought them only stories, legends from a time millennia ago, when the Emperor walked the earth. _

_"It's true then?" he breathed after beginning to come to terms with what he had just realized. _

_The man, Veteran Sergeant Bram, instead of answering, reached up to his helmet. Carefully, almost reverently, he undid the sealing clasps that sealed the helmet to the armor. Pulling it from his head, Bram gazed upon Dios with his own eyes. Bram had relatively round features, with piercing blue eyes and close cropped black hair. He held the helmet in the crook of his arm. _

_A gauntleted hand reached down and rested on Dios' shoulder, "Indeed, boy, the stories are true." It was as if he had known Dios' exact thoughts, "The Angels of Vengeance have long recruited from Seles, and you have been chosen for the privilege to compete in the Angel's Task. Should you survive the Task, you will have taken the first step on the road to becoming one of us, and bring the Emperor's enemies to justice." _

_Dios, still shocked by this truth revealed to him, didn't answer. But Bram was patient and merely stood by as Dios came to terms with it. He looked into Bram's blue eyes, "I am to come with you…?" _

_Bram simply nodded. _

_"I am to travel the stars, bringing justice and death to His enemies?" _

_The Space Marine nodded again. _

_Dios stepped around the massive form of Bram, to look upon his gang. They simply stared at him in open-mouthed awe. _

_"What of them?" he asked, pointing. _

_"They have been selected for recruitment as well. So fear not, you will not be separated from your companions." He paused for a moment, as grins spread to each face of the hive gang. In a voice only Dios could hear, he added, "Not yet at any rate." _

_The gang leader's grin faded quickly, "Not… yet?" _

_"I can assure you. Not all of your gang will survive the Task, and fewer still will survive the transformation itself. You must be prepared for this, or you shall follow them." _

_It did not sit well with Dios that he may have to watch his friends perish. But life in the slums had quickly snuffed out any immaturities, giving him the mind and heart of a man twice his age. He took a shuddering breath, "I am ready." _

_Bram gave a small smile and, in a voice too low for Dios to hear, said, "No one is ever ready for this… But those who survive are made into His image, sculpted into gods of war." He looked down at the boy by his side, "Gather your gang, and follow me." He pointed to the black Thunderhawk gunship that streaked overhead, "Your destinies await." The gunship landed a few hundred meters ahead, its thrusters spitting fire to land it softly on the ground. Another Space Marine came running over to the approaching hive gang. _

_This Space Marine's armor was different however. It was still the same jet black color, but it appeared more ornate, more ancient. The Marine had a red hood over his shaved head, and small streaks of white lightning seemed to dance around the hood. Dios blinked and they were gone; had he imagined them? _

_"Veteran Sergeant." The new marine said, making the sign of the aquila, the warrior's arms forming the salute and banging against his armored chest. _

_"Librarian Noae." Bram returned the salute. _

_Noae looked upon the 'aspirants'. He did not feel that they were worthy of even that lowly title; they had yet to prove themselves. "These are the recruits?" _

_"Indeed they are. A larger tithe then I had expected." _

_"I see." Noae locked eyes with each of the hive gang. Most seemed to quake under his gaze, others even began to shake. Finally, the Librarian's silver eyes stared into the hard emerald irises of Dios. _

_Dios refused to show any sign of weakness before the Space Marine and met his gaze. Noae's lips curled up in a grin. The lightning Dios wasn't sure he had seen earlier became much more pronounced and bright as though a storm were brewing. _

_Almost instantly, the young gang leader could feel the psychic probe deep in his mind. It sifted through his memories and emotions. The very idea of a psychic intruder filled his heart with disgust and his mental defenses shot up immediately. _

_Noae's smiled faded and a look of concentration possessed his features. The probe shattered Dios defenses and tore into the deepest sections of his very soul. Dios' world filled with pain and he fought his knees to stay upright. He gritted his teeth, as blood began to run from his nose. _

_"Enough." _

_Bram's voice cut through the cloud of pain filling Dios and the psychic assault receded. Dios fought to maintain his equilibrium and one of the gangers ran to his side to keep him standing. As the ganger caught him, Dios turned his head to him, and gasped, "Thank you, Magus."_

_Magus simply smiled humorlessly, "You are my gang leader, Dios." He jerked his head slightly toward Bram, "With any luck, we'll be together in the next life as one of them." _

_Bram laughed, his enhanced hearing easily picking up the boys conversation, "Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment, young recruit. You must have faith that the Emperors deems you worthy to be one of His angels." Magus and Dios both looked at the sergeant and vigorously nodded their heads. Bram smiled and turned his eyes back to Noae. _

_He glared at the Librarian, "Do not use such abilities on these recruits again, Noae. They will be screened by the Chapter Librarium for any warp taint or weakness of soul. That is not your duty." _

_Noae took a step back and spread his arms wide, "My apologies, brother-sergeant." _

_"Go aboard the Thunderhawk and do penance for your overstep." _

_Though he detested it, Noae bowed, "Yes, brother-sergeant." He twisted on his heel and walked back up the assault ramp of the Thunderhawk. _

_Dios felt a weight on his shoulder and looked into Bram's face. _

_"Are you okay, boy?" _

_Dios merely nodded. _

_Bram nodded back, "Come now, boys." He gestured for them to follow him, "Come with me." _

"Brother-sergeant?"

_The voice cut through the memory and soon it began to fade. _

"Brother-sergeant?" _The voice called again, louder this time. _

_--  
_

Dios snapped out of his reverie. His battle-collar pulsed a single blip, in conjuncture with a single rune blinking on his helmet display. Tensing his neck, he activated the pearl-like vox bead in his throat, which picked up the vibrations of his vocal cords.

"Brother-sergeant Dios. Speak."

"Brother-sergeant," it was Brother Magus. "We are currently holding the breach. What are your orders?"

The sergeant switched to the squad vox, "Hold the breach, brothers!" He got to his feet and raced to aid his squad. Sticking his bolter to his leg with its magnetic clamp, Dios drew his chainsword from its scabbard at his side. Thumbing the activation rune, the whirring blades roared to life, adding to cacophony of combat.

As he reached the line his brothers had formed and held, he leapt the covers they hid behind, rallying them to follow, "For the Lion and the Emperor!"

The squad echoed their sergeant's cry and unsheathed their melee weapons; chainswords, short swords, and even Brother Magus' own power sword. The Angels charged into the baying green tide.

--

Karr stood on the balcony of the governor's palace, gazing out over the battle. The eastern walls were holding, and the greenskins had yet to fan out and attack other sections of the wall.

"The defense is going well, general." Thorpe stepped out of the room behind the balcony.

"So it would seem." Karr's piercing blue eyes fell over a particularly vicious section of the wall, where the fighting appeared to be the fiercest.

"What is going on over there?" His magnoculars were up to his eyes in an instant, magnifying the battle.

The first thing to catch his attention was the large breach in the wall. It appeared to be only the length of three Chimeras end to end. He activated the comm unit in his ear, "General Karr to all Guard units, Why was I not informed of the breach in sector sixteen-A?" Only static was his answer. Then the voice of a Guardsman rang in his ear. Lasfire and explosions filled the background.

"Sir, those reinforcements have arrived."

"Guardsman, what's going on over there?" Karr demanded.

"You'll never believe it, general. It's His angels…"

_His angels..?_ Karr had a feeling in his gut about what the Guardsman was talking about, but he had to confirm, "Say again, Guardsman? What reinforcements?"

"Astartes, sir."

Karr's breath caught in his throat. _Astartes, here? Impossible. There was no way they could have… _Then he remembered that the planetary sensors had been knocked out days ago.

As if to punctuate the Guardsman's words, a Thunderhawk gunship screamed overhead, heading in the direction of the breach.

He pressed his eyes into the magnoculars again, and this time he could see the power armored figures defending the breach. Even as he watching, a lone Marine charged from behind the line, passed it, and tore into the front of the approaching greenskin horde. The rest of the ten man squad soon followed.

The general quickly sent out a broadcast to all Imperial Guard units near the Astartes' position, "Any and all available units, concentrate fire on the breach. Reserves, head out to reinforce the walls surrounding our relief." In an instant, Chimeras roared from the front gates of the palace, heading toward the breach. Karr felt pride in his regiments' quick response time to his orders.

Turning his magnoculars back to the breach, he watched the Space Marines wreak havoc through the advancing orks. _Though I give thanks to Him for sending His angels to protect us, I wonder if a mere squad will be enough… _

A roar began to sound high above him. Karr cast his gaze skyward. Fiery streaks plummeted toward the battle. He counted them, _Seven. They move too acutely to be mere meteorites._

_--  
_

Dios chainsword growled angrily as it cleaved an ork from hip to shoulder in a brutal upward slash, thick alien blood splashing his armor. Even in this melee, his Space marines had proved a more than sufficient opponent for the greenskins. Behind them lay a charnel house of violence and dismembered corpses.

Even as his chainsword carved roaring death into another xenos, his free hand reached down and grabbed his bolter from his leg. Raising it in a blur, he pulled the trigger, spitting death into the green tide surrounding him. An ork ran directly at him. Dios fired a single bolt into its face, its head soon exploding in a bloody mixture of brain and bone. Inside each bolt round, was an explosive tip that would detonate upon impact.

His finger held the trigger down, and sprayed bolts, full-auto, into the tide. Orks fell to the ground, missing arms, legs, or even their own heads.

Brother Magus soon carved through the crowd to stand by his sergeant. His power sword, which had been given the name Rage by Angels past, gave of an angry red glow in the setting sun.

"Just like old times, eh, Dios?" Magus casually sliced through an ork's mouth, separating its brain from its spine. It toppled to the ground in a heap.

Dios smiled beneath his helmet, "Indeed, my old friend. Just like old times." In a quick motion, he spun around Magus and disemboweled an ork threatening to cut Magus' head from his shoulders, "With me watching your back…"

Magus raised his bolt pistol and fired a single round into the chest of an advancing ork Nob, the explosive tip blowing a head sized hole in its heart. "… And I watching yours."

Dios grinned as they moved like each other's mirror image, each felling an enemy that threatened their brother's life.

Just then, Dios could hear the roar of atmospheric descent. He shot a quick glance to the sky, and newfound strength surged within him. Above the battlefield, though shooting to the ground at an almost suicidal rate, the remainder of the Angels of Vengeance's force descended in drop pods.

"Look to the sky, brothers! The Company is with us!" he voxed to his squad. Cheers echoed in his ears.

The drop pods landed amongst the greenskin horde, all scattered within several hundred meters of each other. Explosive bolts blew open the sides of the pods and bolter fire roared out, giving the Marines breathing room to disembark.

Out of four pods came more Tactical squads, much like Dios' own, each with ten more Marines adding their own fire and sword to the fray. One squad was commanded by Librarian Noae, his hood glowing with lightning and force sword singing as it dealt death to the orks.

Two pods blew open and the orks around it were shredded with heavy bolter and plasma fire, as the Devastators threw off their crash harnesses and blew the greenskins into pieces of ragged flesh with their heavy weapons.

The final pod burst open and the greatest warriors on the Fifth Company lumbered out. Clad in ancient and powerful Terminator armor, Captain Bram and his honor guard added their power fists and storm bolters to the ever growing Astartes counter-attack.

Even over the chaotic noise of battle, Dios heard the captain's battle cry, "For the Lion!"

With fully renewed power, the Space Marines tore into the orks with reckless abandon; the Devastators turning orks into ash and piles of flesh, the Tactical Marines blowing holes in greenskins with disciplined fire or carving them into pieces with chainswords, Noae left hand felling a xenos with every swing while his right spat bolts of psychic lightning, some tearing through multiple orks before dissipating.

But it was Captain Bram and his Terminators that were the most awe inspiring to watch. Each of them was an army in his own right, able to fight with fist and foot long after weapons lay broken and spent behind them. Nothing stopped them.

Dios loosed a shell into the leg of a charging ork, the tip blowing a great chunk out of its thigh. It stumbled to the ground and he stomped an armored boot down on its skull, mixing skin, brain, and skull.

"Fourth squad! To me! We will show this xenos filth what it means to fear fight the Space Marines!"

As one, Veteran Sergeant Dios and his squad charged further into the green tide, laying waste to all before them.

* * *

**Hopefully, that little gory display of violence grabbed some of your attentions. ;) **

**please review and let me know what you all think. :)  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hola everyone! **

**Well here we are again, at the start of another chapter. ;) **

**I wont keep you, see you at the end. **

**NO flamming.  
**

* * *

Chapter Three

**Defenders of Mankind**

Grix awoke in the medical bay of the hospital. Slowly he pushed himself up, and a hand shot up to his head. It throbbed painfully. "What the hell happened?" he asked himself, as there was no one around. "I was fighting the orks at the eastern wall."

Recollection crept into his mind, "There was an explosion and then…" The image of the black armored giant was stark and clear in his memory. "The Space Marine…"

Just then, a female medicae officer pulled back the curtain surrounding the sergeant's bed in the medical bay. "Ah, Sergeant Grix, it is good to see you have regained consciousness."

He nodded and looked at her, "What happened to me?"

The medicae reached for a dataslate at the foot of the bed. "You received a mild concussion, three broken ribs, and quite a bit of internal bleeding." She watched as Grix's vital signs scrolled across the dataslate, "You are lucky one of your fellow Guardsmen brought you here, or you would be dead by now."

"Am I in fighting condition again?"

The medicae looked down at the dataslate again and touched several runes, "Well, your concussion has been handled, but could still kill you if you are not careful. Your ribs have been set, though too much stress on them will be quite painful for you, and your internal injuries have been sealed."

Grix simply stared at her, waiting for a definitive answer.

Without looking up from the slate, she continued, "In short, sergeant, no. You are not fit for a return to combat as of yet."

He sighed. He had expected this, "How long will it be until I am fit?"

"That depends on your cooperation with the medicae personal and your own body's willingness to heal. Thus far, sergeant," she pressed another rune, "Your progress has been excellent."

"How long was I out for?"

"About twelve Terran hours."

_I've been out for far too long._ He swung his legs over the side of the bed and, despite the pain in his ribs, stood. "How fares the fight?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Sergeant, what did I just say?" The medicae stepped forward and laid a hand on his chest, "You must rest."

Grix slapped the hand away, "Do not tell me what I must do, medicae. Now I'll ask again, how fares the fight?"

The medicae sighed, "The Astartes drove the orks back from the walls. Their commander is meeting with General Karr and Commissar Thorpe in the governor's palace to discuss the next move."

"Thank you," the sergeant muttered, and walked unsteadily from the room.

--

Brother-Captain Bram pushed open the large metal doors into the room which had become the strategic planning room since the Guardsmen had been pushed back to the city limits. Dios was right behind him.

Inside, Karr leaned over the holomap projector, his aides giving him a briefing on the damage sustained to the city and the casualties.

"Minor damage to the eastern walls, aside from the gaping hole left by the ork's bombing run."

"Of the men stationed at the wall, three hundred are dead and one thousand are wounded."

"I see." Karr sighed and looked up. He jumped a little bit at the sight of the captain in his Tactical Dreadnaught armor, commonly referred to as Terminator armor. Apparently he didn't hear them enter. Dios stood beside Captain Bram, arms folded across his chest.

Karr strode around the holomap and knelt before Bram, "It is an honor to be in the presence of the Adeptus Astartes, especially such a decorated captain as yourself, my lord."

Bram laid a gauntleted hand on the general's shoulder. Bram's hand could punch through adamantium or crush the life out of a heretic. But also could it hold the most delicate glass sculpture with no fear of crushing it. "Stand, general. No man need kneel before any but the Emperor."

The man stood, and bowed twice; once to Bram, once to Dios. "I cannot thank you and your company enough for what you have done for…" he began.

The captain silenced him with a wave of his hand, "You sent out a request for help and we received your request. We could not and would not leave one of the Emperor's worlds undefended."

Karr smiled, "All the same, thank you." He walked back around and turned the holomap back on. The city of Eyoden was displayed before them.

"Rewind twelve Terran hours," the general ordered the servitor nearby.

The image of the city became fuzzy and the greenskins forces backpedaled across the hills, going backwards to the city.

Finally the image became clear again and the battle raged. Then the Thunderhawk swooped in, dropping Dios and his squad off at the breach. Soon, the drop pods smashed into the green tide and the rest of the company was disgorged into the battle.

The battle moved at an accelerated pace and soon the orks were retreating over the hills back to the other cities.

"The orks were beaten," Karr said.

"Beaten, but not routed." Dios added.

"Indeed, brother-sergeant. The greenskins have been pushed back. Nothing more. They are, as we speak, reorganizing their forces to prepare for another assault." Bram folded his arms behind his back, and began to slowly circle to holomap, "General, how many men do you have under your command?"

"Just under two hundred thousand men, along with an entire regiment's worth of tanks and transports."

"Not enough men to constitute an all-out offensive." Bram considered the options.

"My men are all ready and willing to take the fight to the greenskins, my lord." Karr spoke up.

"A fact I'm well aware of, general. The collective courage and fervor of the Imperial Guard is not being questioned." Bram continued his circle of the holomap. "Show me the location of the orks now." He commanded the servitor.

The machine whirred and beeped as the projector's image shifted. Now displayed was a city. The street level of the city was completely red, every square inch containing a xeno.

"That's the city of Tartan. It was the last city to fall to their advance before we set up our last stand here in Eyoden." Karr answered Bram's unasked question. "We suffered moderate casualties to the units stationed there."

The Space Marine captain leaned on the holomap table, "We need to find a way to catch the orks off guard, a way to get into the heart of the city. This will throw their whole horde into disarray." Thorpe looked upon the captain with a doubting eye.

"Is there a problem, commissar?" Dios inquired from the other side of the room.

Thorpe turned his gaze to the sergeant, "I am not convinced of your loyalty to the Emperor. You are Space Marines, yes. However I am not ignorant of the past. I know of the events of the Horus Heresy. I know of the Space Marines that betrayed Him and gave themselves to the Ruinous Powers of Chaos. How do we know you are not those Chaos Space Marines?"

Bram stood, "Commissar, I would highly advise you keep such thoughts from your mind." He reached up and undid the clasps of his helmet. He turned the full might of his gaze upon the human, whom he towered above, "The loyalty of my Company and or my Chapter has never once been compromised. We praise the God-Emperor and live to fight and destroy His enemies. We carry out His judgment and will."

The commissar was chastened but did not back down, "Who are you to claim to know His will?"

Bram's eyes flared, "I am Captain Igneous Bram of the Angel of Vengeance Sixth Company. The Space Marines were created in His image and we have carried out his will ever since He began his conquest of Terra. Do not ever question our loyalty again, commissar, or I shall put a bolt through your doubting skull."

Thorpe didn't show any sign of fear, but Dios could hear his pulse racing. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. A few moments of tense silence followed before Bram turned back to the holomap. "Are there any secret ways into the city?"

"Not that I know of, cap-" Karr began.

The doors swung open and a heavily bandaged man stumbled into the room.

"Who are you?" Thorpe demanded.

The man stood as straight as he could but he winced, "I am Sergeant Christopher Grix of the Draxalian Fourth Infantry Regiment."

Dios instantly recognized the newcomer as the man he had seen the previous night.

"Sergeant, this is not the place for someone of your rank." Karr replied.

"But, sir," Grix began.

"Sergeant, I will have you shot for insubordination if you do not leave this room," Thorpe threatened.

Grix looked at the Space Marines and a small smile graced his face. He turned to leave.

Bram turned back to the general, "So you know of no unused ways in Tartan?"

"No, captain," he affirmed.

"I know of a way," Grix interjected, his back still turned to them.

"What?" the general asked.

The sergeant turned back around and wobbled unsteadily to the holomap. "Here," he pointed to the southern side of the city. "There's a maintenance hatch into the sewage systems in the hills."

"How big is this hatch, sergeant?" Dios asked.

He closed his eyes, as if it deep thought, "Well, it's been well over twenty years since I was last there. The door is only about seven feet high and four feet wide, but the access tunnel inside could have three Leman Russ tanks side by side and two stacked on top of each other with room to spare."

Karr clapped his hands together, "It appears we now have a way to drive this ork filth from our world. What is our plan of attack, captain?"

He smiled, "I am afraid you ask the wrong Marine, general." With a gesture, he called Dios forward, "This is Veteran Sergeant Dios. He is my second in command, but he also possesses the most brilliant tactical mind in the company. Even as we spoke, I am sure he has already come up with a battle plan."

Dios reached up and removed his helmet, three silver service studs jutting from his brow bone, "Indeed I have, brother-captain."

Bram stepped aside, and all eyes turned to Dios, "Please, brother-sergeant."

The sergeant leaned forward and pointed to the maintenance hatch. Slowly, the plan his mind had formulated began to be explained, "I will lead a two squad team of Marines into this access tunnel…"

--

All was quiet in the forest around Tartan. The ork sentries went about their patrols or dozed leaning on the battlements. Not even the animals stirred as the ten Space Marines slipped by, under the shadow of the trees.

The orks had gone to extensive effort to fortify the city. What appeared to be anti-aircraft guns were along the walls at regular intervals. The patrol routes of the sentries covered virtually every inch of the walls. The western gate and the surrounding walls, the wall closest to the city of Eyoden, were especially over defended. It sported gun turrets on either side of the gate. Almost as if they expected an attack. _Clever for brutes,_ Dios had commented when he was explaining his plan of attack.

They moved in silence, hand signals and acknowledgement runes their only form of communication.

The maintenance hatch came into view. Dios signaled to one of his Marines. Brother-Krotas stepped out of cover and kneeled on the ground. Two orks stood guard outside the hatch. _The beasts know of this hatch yet the Imperial Guard did not? _Krotas mused to himself.

He locked his bolter in the crook of his arm and gazed through the sight. The first ork was leaning against the rockcrete of the city walls, head falling forward as he dozed off. The other stood and walked over to his companion. Krotas waited until both orks were lined up in his sight, and then pulled the trigger.

The bolt flew through the silencer without a sound. It went clear through the closest ork, a clean hole through its skull. The second ork's head exploded violently, skull fragments and brain matter splattering the wall behind. Both corpses slumped to the ground. Krotas held up two fingers then made a cutting motion through the air, _Threat neutralized._

The squad of Marines moved quickly to the hatch, the alien blood pooling around their feet.

Dios made a quick gesture, and another battle-brother stepped forward. This one carried a large flamer connected to a container of promethium attached to his power armor.

Brother Zeke spoke the necessary rites and prayed to the machine-spirit of his flamer, before squeezing the trigger. The promethium gushed through the flamer before spraying past the pilot light just outside the nozzle. Searing flame burst from the weapon, incinerating the xenos corpses before the spores they emitted could be allowed to grow into new orks. When nothing but ash and cinder remained, Zeke turned the stream of liquid fire on the access hatch, melting it in a matter of seconds. Zeke released the nozzle and held up an open hand before gesturing inside the still melting hole, _Breach secured. No hostiles detected. _

Dios nodded and motioned inside, _Move in. _The remaining nine members of the Fourth Squad obeyed and, one-by-one, slipped into the breach.

Inside it was pitch black; the lights lining the ceiling had long since burned out. But thanks to the Space Marines enhanced eyes, and their power armor's own auto-senses, it was as clear and bright as though the sun was shining. Slowly, they descended further and further into the darkness. Knowing now that their vox-traffic could not be heard through the meters of rockcrete above them, Dios tensed the muscles in his throat, "Scouts, you have your orders." Instantly, ten acknowledgement runes blinked on his helmet display.

Invisibly among their brothers, thanks to the concealing effects of their camo-cloaks, the Scout squad taken from the Tenth Company doubled their pace and disappeared completely into the darkness.

Dios continued to lead his squad through the access tunnel until they were deep underneath the heart of the city. Finally he found a doorway. He pressed himself against one side of the door, and nodded to Krotas. Krotas stood before the door and kicked it in.

The metal crumpled and flew off its hinges, smashing into a group of three orks on the other side. Without pause or remorse, Krotas felled each with a single silent shot to its skull. "Clear." was his only word.

Dios clapped him once on the shoulder before slipping through the door. Krotas followed, and each member of the squad was right behind them. They swiftly moved up the stairs inside the room, with Zeke pausing at the bottom to 'purify the ground', as he called it.

At the top of the stairs, Dios again activated the vox bead in his throat, "Umenis, contacts?"

Right behind Brother Krotas, Brother Umenis grabbed the auspex from his backpack and clicked it on. The screen flickered to life, and all around the center of the screen, thousands of red blips blinked back at Umenis, "Thousands, sir. But it appears that there is about thirty meter area around the exit from this room where they are not encroaching."

"And where does this room exit out into?"

"We actually come out into an alleyway between two of the Administratium buildings."

_Plenty of cover within the shadows,_ the squad leader thought to himself. "Move out, Angels."

Carefully, slowly, he pushed open the door. The alleyway was dark, but the light of the stars and the Draxal's twin moons illuminated the streets at either end.

As the door opened, Dios could hear them and smell them before he could see them. The orks crowded in the streets, hooting and hollering as they watched contests between their brothers. Occasionally, fights would break out but they were small and ended quickly.

Thankfully the moons were on the opposite side of on the buildings. There was no way an ork's eyes could pierce the gloom and see the Marines hiding in the shadows.

"Veteran Sergeant Dios to Scout-Sergeant Syokai," Dios voxed.

"Scout-Sergeant Syokai here," was the reply.

"Are you and your squad in position?"

"Yes, sir. All scouts are in position; demo charges planted and ready to blow."

"Any problems?"

"Several xenos crossed our paths. My scouts made short work of them.

"Very good, sergeant. Upon my signal, detonate the charges."

"Yes, sir." The connection cut.

Dios accessed his own squad's vox-link, "Fourth Squad, the scouts are in position." Nine acknowledgement runes blinked in his helmet.

He opened a private channel, "Brother Krotas, you are the best marksman in the squad." Knowing Krotas was watching him, he pointed to the smaller of the two buildings, "Make your way to the roof of that building. Eliminate any resistance and cover your brothers who are in the thick of it."

"Yes, sir," Krotas nodded his head. Using the magnetic lock on his bolter, he attached it to the side of his thigh before running to the building. Using his servo-assisted strength, he forcibly made hand grips in the rockcrete and slowly made his way up.

The veteran sergeant looked to his other brothers, they all stood ready to make war on the greenskins and bring them death. However, his eyes came to rest upon a Marine standing with a little space between himself and the rest of the squad. A stylized 'I' stood out on his left shoulder.  
"Brother Ephraim? Is everything alright?" Dios voxed on another private channel.

The Marine turned his head to catch Dios' gaze, "Indeed, veteran sergeant. Everything is fine." His voice seemed older, the voice that carried a thousand memories best left forgotten.

"Your time in the Deathwatch ways heavily on you, brother," Dios noted.

"It does, brother-sergeant."

"Perhaps you should consult Chaplain Eyonai when this mission is complete."

"I can't, brother-sergeant."

"Can't or won't?" Dios asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Both."

"The Ordo Xenos keeps its secrets close."

"It does." Ephraim remained silent as he replayed hazy recollections, little more than echoes, through his mind. Oaths had been sworn. Promises were made. Memories were torn from the mind by psyk-enhanced meditation and the ungentle scouring on arcane machinery.

"Let us take the fight to the alien, brother," Dios finally said.

"Of course, sir," Ephraim nodded.

"Fourth squad," the squad leader voxed on the squad channel, "The xenos threat surrounds us. They believe themselves superior to the Guardsman, superior to us, superior to Mankind." He racked the slide on his bolter, "It is time to prove them wrong, brothers! Let us go forth and wreak His terrible fury!"

"For the Emperor!" they replied in unison.

Krotas' acknowledgement rune blinked. It was time. He unclipped a frag grenade from his belt, and heard his squad do the same. His vox channel to Syokai opened, "Blow the charges, sergeant."

No answer was forthcoming, but for the distant booms of explosions. Across the city, support structures were blown to bits, and buildings swayed briefly before crashing to the streets below. Inhuman bestial roars echoed before being cut short as their lives were cut short.

"Take the vengeance to the enemy, Angels!" Dios cried as he primed his grenade before hurling it into the now confused horde of orks. His squad followed his example. The grenades exploded violently, shrapnel tearing into the greenskins.

Bolters fired full-auto into the crowd. Bolts ripped through bodies and exploded, filling the street with thick xenos blood.

"For the Lion and the Emperor!" Dios yelled as he crushed the nearest orks face with the butt of his bolter.

The squad echoed his cry as they laid into the greenskins. Chainswords were ripped from their scabbards and roared to life. Magus' power sword surged to life as he thumbed the activation rune, the red light running up the length of the blade.

"Death to the xenos!" They all cried in unity.

--

Krotas kneeled on the roof of one of the Administratium buildings, specialized bolter locked in the crook of his arm.

He gazed down his sight at the carnage his battle-brothers were bringing to bear on the orks. He squeezed the trigger and an ork nob about to disembowel Ephraim from behind dropped to the street in a lifeless heap.

With each squeeze of the trigger, an ork was killed, its body falling into the ankle deep river of blood now filling the streets.

Krotas could hear thrusters behind him, but they soundedtoo soft to be the Thunderhawks. Quickly, he threw himself to one side as an armored figure with a jump pack on its back slashed claws through where his neck had just been. The figure roared in anger but continued onward.

Krotas' eyes caught sight of the midnight blue color of the armor, the skull with bat-like wings on one shoulder of the figure, and the stylized lightning on one of its greaves. _Night Lords._

The Night Lords were one of the nine Space Marine Legions that turned their backs on the Emperor and followed the banner of the Warmaster Horus, in the time of the Horus Heresy over ten thousand years ago. During the Siege of Terra, the Night Lords, and their Primarch Kunrad Curze or Night Haunter, were on a genocidal campaign to stop any support from this section of the galaxy reaching Terra. After the Heresy, the Night Lords remained one of the only Traitor Legions to retain its pre-Heresy numbers. They had made war on the Imperium since their retreat in Eye of Terror.

The Night Lord spun and came around for another pass. He did not wear a helmet and black eyes, stark against the almost translucent skin were alight, the raptor was enjoying himself. This time, however, Krotas was ready. Dropping his gun to the roof, he ducked the Night Lord's initial attack and rammed his fist into his midsection.

The attack changed the Night Lord's trajectory and the jump pack on his back slammed him into the rockcrete of the building. As the Chaos Marine reeled from the blow, Krotas pressed his advantage, delivering a savage blow to the traitors face. He felt bones break.

The Chaos Marine howled in agony and rage. He glared hate filled eyes up at Krotas, "How fares the False Emperor, servant of the Corpse-God?"

A sneer met its lips as Krotas ripped off his helmet. With eyes of a deep gold and dark brown hair, Krotas did not resemble many of his battle-brothers. "Last time I checked, traitor, your precious Warmaster was slain at the hand of the Emperor, who reigns forever on the Golden Throne."

The sneer vanished from the Night Lord's face, moving instead to Krotas'. He knelt and clasped a hand around the Night Lord's throat, both of his knees holding down his arms.

"Die, traitor…"

The traitor's response was to roar voicelessly, his black eyes alight with rage; all amusement was gone. He struggled vainly against Krotas' weight holding his arms down.

Krotas leaned down, his lips close to the Night Lord's ear, "I _hate_ you."

The Night Lord hissed.

"This is the Emperor's galaxy." With a final surge of effort, the Angel squeezed with all his strength. His iron grip was more than even the impressive Space Marine physiology could withstand. Vertebrae cracked and popped under the pressure. "Mankind's galaxy. _Our_ galaxy. Know that as your worthless life ends."

Krotas let the traitor fall dead to the roof. His hands released their grip on its throat. He stood over his kill. "Veteran Sergeant?" he voxed.

"What is it, brother?"

"The situation just got much more complicated."

* * *

**There you have it. The Night Lords are on Draxal. **

**What is their purpose here, and what could it mean for the Angels? **

**You'll just have to be patient and find out. ;)  
**


End file.
